Nancy Fresco
nancy fresco
The Ride, Issue 119
Nancy Fresco may just be our first Super-Duper-Commuter. Her regular commutes aren't that long in terms of mileage, but they're comparatively long in harshness. Starting from her cabin in the woods just outside the city of Fairbanks, Alaska, she sets off on a 6.5 mile route to her job at the Northern Alaska Environmental Center as the Boreal Forest Campaign & Local Issues Coordinator. "Thirteen miles seems very short on sunny summer days," explained Fresco. "At thirty or forty or even fifty below zero, in the pitch darkness of winter, it seems much longer!" From November to April, local conditions are icy, making studded tires a necessity. The average temperature in January is negative-10 with temperatures regularly dropping to 40 to 50 degrees below zero. Yes, that's 82 degrees below what is technically considered freezing! But this Long Island, NY native doesn't miss a day even when the sun struggles to rise above the horizon for just three hours. Fresco has winterized her bike, which involves switching out bearing lube and chain and cable grease which solidify at cold temperatures. "The friction gets to be so great that biking along a perfectly flat road feels like going up a steep hill," she narrated. "I repacked the bearings with a lighter grease, but it still gets pretty viscous." Fresco has been a bike commuter since her youth, with time spent in Cambridge, Mass., New Haven, Conn., and even Jamaica, where she worked as a Peace Corps volunteer. "The hazards have varied, from insane drivers in Boston to flash flooding in Jamaica and to Alaska's cold temperatures, but there have also been plenty of rewards. For one thing, it's amazing how much more you see from a bike than from a car." That includes some unusual wildlife sightings. In late winter this year, this 32-year-old was riding past a herd of reindeer that are kept on the campus of the University of Alaska Fairbanks where she is currently pursuing a PhD in Conservation Biology, when she noticed some unusual commotion. Pulling over, she watched quietly from the side of the road as a reindeer gave birth to a little brown calf. "I often encounter moose when I'm biking," she added. "As in New England, Alaska moose like grazing by the roadsides, because of lush green vegetation where the trees have been cut back. Usually the moose ambles off into the trees when it sees me, but sometimes the younger ones seem really curious about the human on wheels." During the long winter, Fresco bundles up in thick wool shoes, a few extra layers, and three heavy pairs of mittens. "I wear far fewer layers than most people guess. The torso and legs usually just get one insulating layer and one windproof layer, even in the most extreme weather." She then hops on her Giant Boulder -- "your basic steel-framed no-shocks no-frills mountain bike" -- and gets in to what she calls a Zen mode of riding. "Winter bikers in Fairbanks are few and far between," Fresco noted. "We can only recognize each other by our bikes and outerwear, since only our eyeballs are uncovered. But there's a sense of camaraderie among such folks. I try to encourage friends to become bike commuters, and I've put together a Fairbanks biking fact sheet that I hand out at the Northern Alaska Environmental Center." But let's not dwell only on the gloom. As the pendulum of darkness and bitter cold swings back, Fairbanks residents get to enjoy the midnight sun. This June, Fresco took part in an outdoor production of Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. "Outdoor theater is great on endlessly long summer evenings. I really enjoyed biking home with no traffic on the roads, and the sun low in the sky. One night I set out for a fifteen mile ride home just after midnight. The temperature was just right; it was in the 60's, with a perpetual gold and red sunset glowing in the direction I was heading. Hardly anyone was out that late on a Sunday night. It was quiet and calm, the fireweed was just starting to bloom, and the air smelled of spruce trees. I felt like I could have biked forever." Alaska offers great opportunities for bicycling touring. Fresco and her husband took one notable two-week, thousand-mile trip from from Tok, Alaska into the Yukon, Canada via the Alaska Highway, then due north to Dawson City. They returned via the aptly named Top of the World Highway. They've also enjoyed the 80-mile park road into Denali National Park. "This is an unpaved road, and private cars aren't allowed on it -- only park buses -- so biking it offers a unique independence. Food supplies definitely have to be bear-proof, and the elevation change is pretty extreme." Fresco believes that more bike commuting could be encouraged by workplaces offering bike racks and incentives and even showers and places to change. "But some people like to do that very American thing where they drive to the gym, bike on a stationary bike and then drive home again. It makes no sense." "People always ask me about how I manage the cold, but that really doesn't bother me, now that I have figured out how to dress for it. What really worry me are the drivers. I keep putting more and more red blinky lights and reflective tape on my bike. I'm like a traveling Christmas tree." | more supercommuters » BikeCulture Magazine and Planet Bike honor the silent hero of the Revolution: the bicycle commuter. A supercommuter rides through every season, in all types of weather, day and night. Choosing the simplicity, health and pleasure of bicycling, a supercommuter isn't necessarily against automobiles. They simply prefer to ride a bike to the grocery store, to work, to a concert or the cafe. nominate a supercommuter » For each issue BikeCulture chooses a new Supercommuter. They are posted here in addition to BikeCulture Magazine. |
